Small Realities

Inside the mind of Lance Schonberg

Thorvald’s Wyrd 054

Thorvald felt teeth tear through the furs to dig into his flesh.  He kicked and jerked and flailed but could not shake the grip.  Only heartbeats remained before one of the other beasts found the strength to wrap its jaws around his throat.  His doom approached.

His death approached.

And then the wolves stopped.  They did not let go but held firm, locking their bodies in place, anchoring him to the ground.  He ceased fighting and, craning his neck, looked around as best he could.

A wolf with glowing blue eyes approached and a chill of dread settled over him.

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